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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477247">Don't Stop Talking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine'>Sam_Haine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Crying, Death, Electrocution, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hunters &amp; Hunting, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt Stiles Stilinski, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Murder, Protective Derek Hale, Rape/Non-con Elements, Threats of Violence, Torture, Tortured Stiles Stilinski, Wolfsbane as Weapon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:20:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,969</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477247</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Haine/pseuds/Sam_Haine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Derek and Stiles have been captured by hunters. Seeing Stiles hurt ignites something deep within the Alpha.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>390</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Stop Talking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My 2nd Sterek fic! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Don't Stop Talking </p><p> </p><p>This wasn't even remotely a humourous event. </p><p>No. </p><p>It was down right traumatizing and Derek's never felt this tortured since the death of his family in the fire. He's locked in a dark room, bloodied and stripped down to his jeans and chained to the wall by silver plated shackles. They burn his wrists making the skin itchy and raw as he struggles against the metal wristbands. The sound of blood rushing fills his head and he exhales heavily, listening in for a heartbeat. A specific heartbeat. </p><p>He hears a voice instead, malicious and rough. </p><p>"Dunlop, Carvalho, with me. Leave the boy here." </p><p>Derek's ears perk up at the sound of bullets filling a hollow, metal chamber and his gut squirms. He knows Stiles is in that other room- with those hunters- <em>those monsters.</em> He struggles against his binds again but the chains barely give. He growls, fangs unsheathing as he looks around desperately. There has to he something he can- </p><p><em>"Derek?"</em> </p><p>He freezes at the familiar voice, head snapping up. </p><p>"Stiles?"</p><p>There's a thud against the wall at his back and he hears a low and pitiful chuckle. </p><p>"Derek! Oh my God sourwolf, you're here too." Stiles gasps out, sounding oddly relieved. The sound of shackles against metal tells Derek that the teen is bound against the wall just like he is. And that the only thing between them is a thin panel of metal. This must be some kind of makeshift, holding facility for creatures like himself. The entire room is coated, wall-to-wall with salt, wolfsbane and mountain ash. They mess with his senses, making his vision blurry, his ears ring and his head hurt. He's immensely glad that he can communicate with Stiles. The irony doesn't escape him one bit either- <em>...how relieved he was to hear the teen's voice.</em></p><p>"Any ideas for a great escape?" Stiles asks after a while and Derek can hear the sheepish-ness in his voice. </p><p>He chuckles low in his throat and shakes his head. "No, not yet. The walls are messing with my senses."</p><p>Stiles swallows, "Yeah, I heard one of them say that the rooms are fortified with either silver plating, wolfsbane or mountain ash." </p><p>Derek nods despite Stiles being unable to see his reaction. "They are. The shackles too."</p><p>"How far do you think Scott and the others are?" Stiles asks, a tinge of hope in his tone. </p><p>"Not sure. Peter's been tracking us for at least three days distance. Just to be safe. But those men- those hunters, they're not stupid. They know we run in packs, so they'll be waiting for them." </p><p>He hears Stiles struggle against his shackles uselessly. "They had all the toys," the teen mutters. "Silver bullets, wolfsbane, mountain ash, <em>Phoenix</em> ash- you name it. Said <em>they</em> were approaching fast. Do you think he meant Scott and the others? Or Peter?" </p><p>Derek sighs, head thudding against the wall. "I don't know. Peter's smart though. He won't let them get the drop on him." </p><p>Stiles is quiet for a while, fiddling with his chains again- or doing something else that's making them rattle. The sounds grate on Derek's sensitive ears, making his headache intensify. He growls, hearing gunshots ring out and muffled cries in the distance. His hearing abilities are at least a sixty per cent right now. He doesn't hear roars or wolfish howls amongst the noise, finding some solace in the fact that for now, his pack and his uncle are safe. </p><p>"Hey Derek?" </p><p>He pauses, focusing on Stiles' voice amidst the ruckus outside that the kid can't hear. "Yeah?"</p><p>"I'm sorry..." </p><p>The Alpha frowns, surprised at the warmth of sincerity in the teen's voice. "For what?" </p><p>Stiles snickers to himself but it doesn't sound like he thinks it's funny. "I got us captured."</p><p>Derek rolls his eyes, "Not your fault Stiles."</p><p>"But it is. Because of me, they got the jump on you..." </p><p>Derek stews on that for a moment, remembering how he'd stopped, halfway into his journey to berate a very cheeky Stiles for following him into certain death. </p><p>
  <em>"I didn't ask for your help Stiles!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"C'mon, you always need me. I'm like, the pack's wildcard. Heh, get it? Wildcard? They'll never see me coming." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're a wildcard alright," Derek had huffed, rounding on the boy with glowing red eyes. "And an idiot. We had a plan. A well thought out plan that didn't involve you. You compromised the mission." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh pl- would you stop with the dramatics, sourwolf? Mission? Seriously? We're literally just gonna check out this camp and then pass along the Intel to my Dad. Think of me as your asset. I have a particular set of skills that may come in hand- ah!" </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A bullet had promptly sunk itself into Stiles' shoulder, sending him to the ground hard. Derek roared but was quickly destabilized by three wolfsbane bullets to the chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>After that, they'd been dragged off to the camp.</em>
</p><p>Derek frowns, just remembering the events and quickly looked down at his chest to see that he'd healed up. The hunters must've taken them out, which told him that they needed him alive. Must be making a trade. Stiles on the other hand, was a squishy human, totally unprotected. </p><p>"Hey, how's your shoulder?" </p><p>Stiles scoffs and groans. "Hurts like a bitch but it's gone numb now. They gave me some pills and bandaged me up. Must've thought I was a werewolf until I didn't heal up." </p><p>Derek sighs and shakes his head. "Your Dad's gonna kill me." </p><p>Stiles snorts, "Please, he'd kill me and then have you bring me back to life to kill me again." </p><p>Derek actually laughs at that, but it's cut off by the sound of a door banging open. It's on Stiles' end and his senses flare at the violent shouts and bangs that follow. He listened in carefully and made out the sound of three different heartbeats. His sense of smell- despite being seriously depleted- informed him that the bodies in the room with Stiles were all men, carrying the thick and sickening stench of sweat, blood and gunmetal on them. Amidst the cacophony of sound, he hears Stiles gulp, quickly followed by the sound of a gun cocking. </p><p>He freezes. </p><p>"So you're human, ay boy?" </p><p>The accent is a mixture of American and Irish. Derek's never run into hunters like these before.  </p><p>"Aren't we all?" Stiles sasses, and receives a swift punch to the gut for his troubles. Derek hates the way he feels the wall behind him rattle under the force of the action. </p><p>"Smart mouth," the man mocks. </p><p>"Thanks for the warm welcome boys," Stiles wheezes, trying to catch his breath. </p><p>"What is the nature of your relationship with the werewolf?" </p><p>Derek hears Stiles snort in amusement before replying, "What werewolf?" </p><p>The man chuckles smugly, then Derek hears the sound of menacing footsteps. After a few seconds, the sickening sound of metal crunching against skull shocks his senses and he hears Stiles cry out in pain. The faint but familiar scent of blood fills his nostrils and he growls. </p><p>"Try not to be a smart ass," another man warns mockingly, "or else the next part of the gun that hits you won't be the butt." </p><p>Stiles' breathing goes shallow and Derek can feel his exertion. "Geez sorry..." </p><p>"How do you know the wolf?" the man asks again, sounding slightly amused at the kid's predicament. </p><p>Stiles sighs, "I- ...I just know him from around town I swear." </p><p>Derek silently praises the kid for being smart enough to not situate himself in alliance with him. Hunters like these were notorious for their hatred of werewolf sympathizers. In their eyes, usually the sympathizer was worse than the wolf itself.</p><p>"Lies."</p><p>"I'm not lying!" </p><p>"Then why were you with him in the forest? See, we're not stupid kid. We know Alphas like him run in packs, usually tight-knit ones. Which means that the rest are somewhere out there, waiting to attack. Now, I'll admit you being human was kind of a surprise for us, but, it's not uncommon for some packs to have a token human as a member. It's just, we haven't come across anything like this in a long time." </p><p>"So, you've been doing this for a while huh?" Stiles mutters, breathing hard and unsteady. </p><p>The man chuckles and nods enthusiastically. "For over a decade and let me tell you, it's been a rewarding experience thus far. Ridding the world of these monsters." </p><p>"You mean murdering innocent people," Stiles growls. </p><p><em>"They are not people!"</em> the man spits with vitriol, pistol whipping Stiles again. Derek hears the teen grunt through gritted teeth. </p><p>"They are." </p><p>"They're not even close to human!"</p><p>Stiles spits- blood from his mouth Derek assumes. "You would know. You're nothing more than a murderer." </p><p>The man cackles maniacally and Derek has the urge to tell Stiles to stop goading him on. His ears twitch at the sound of bullets being loaded into a chamber. </p><p>"As I've always believed. You werewolf sympathizers are the problem. It's because of you their numbers are multiplying." </p><p>"So what are you gonna do? Kill him?" Stiles demands, voice shaking. There's a sharp pause and the sound of shuffling feet filling the thick silence between them. </p><p>"No," the man answers simply. "Not yet. We're gonna capture the rest of his pack, and then kill him in front of them. Most effective way to send a message. Then we'll sell the remaining betas to a dealer in the South." </p><p>Stiles shudders, and Derek feels his fear course through him. </p><p>"And me?" </p><p>Pausing for dramatic effect does its job quite efficiently, when the man finally answers, "You seem to love talking when put under the right <em>persuasions.</em> Torturing you will be fun." </p><p> </p><p>.......................</p><p>"Stiles?" </p><p>Derek's heart falters at the silence that replies. The men had been in the room with Stiles for at least an hour, discussing their plans amongst other mundane things. In that time, Stiles' breathing had evened out and he'd remained unnervingly silent. That had been at least twenty minutes ago now, and Derek felt the pit of his stomach drop at Stiles' lack of response. </p><p>"Stiles!" he calls again, for the hundredth time. He never thought he'd see the day when he'd wish desperately to hear Stiles talk. </p><p><em>"D- ...Derek?"</em> a weak voice calls a few minutes later. </p><p>"Stiles, are you okay? I smelled blood when they hit you." </p><p>The teen groans and rises shakily to a sitting position against the wall he shares with the Alpha. "Got pistol whipped like a bitch. Gun butt gave me a mean gash on the noggin." </p><p>Derek sighs, dismayed. "You, you gotta stop talking. These guys mean business. The pack's been trying to get past the perimeters for a while without success. They're well fortified here and... we may have to escape on our own... before they start capturing the others." </p><p>Stiles swallows uncomfortably and nods his head. "I know. Was just trying to get them to talk. It worked. They told us the plan." </p><p>Derek allows himself to smile slightly at that and he nods along with the kid. "You're right." </p><p>"Derek?" Stiles calls out and it's weird how timid and... almost scared he sounds. </p><p>"Yeah?" </p><p>He hears Stiles swallow nervously before muttering, "They said they're gonna kill you." </p><p>Derek sighs and rests his elbows on his bent knees. "I heard that." </p><p>"...in front of the whole pack."</p><p>"I heard that too." </p><p>And Derek would never admit it but, the thought of dying in front of his pack kind of scared him. But the thing that had really scared him was the man expressing gleefully, how fun it would be to torture Stiles. He'd heard the boy take a few hard hits and it wrenched at his chest like he himself had been beat. There was no doubt that Derek and Stiles had had the weirdest relationship in the pack- a kind of love-hate dynamic that led to most of their bickering, but, at the end of the day, they both had a mutual respect for each other, and that just made the pack stronger. Stiles was a vital member of the pack, and he couldn't afford to lose him. </p><p>
  <em>At least that's what Derek told himself.</em>
</p><p>He chose to ignore the other part of him that felt obligated to tend to Stiles' protection as if they were eternal mates or something hilarious like that. There was no possibility that he was in any way romantically inclined when it came to the spastic teen. First of all, <em>he was a teen,</em> and second, his Dad was the Sheriff. Noah Stilinski would stop at nothing to protect his son and he wasn't above pumping Derek full of lead even if he did know about his healing abilities. <em>God, when did this little traitorous thing start between him and Stiles?</em></p><p>Derek swore he'd never get involved with anyone after Kate. Not that Stiles was anything even remotely like Kate, but still. It was hard to trust again, ...to love again. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice. </p><p>Sighing, he leans his head against the wall, feeling immensely closer to the teen. "It- ...it's gonna be okay Stiles." </p><p>Ever the committed Alpha, it was his job to provide comfort to his pack in the worst of times. And he knew about Stiles' panick attacks through Scott. He had to be the level headed one here, even if Stiles was eerily calm right now, the situation could become messy fast. </p><p>Food is served hastily to them- literally a dead rabbit to Derek and a can of cold soup to Stiles- and they're left alone for the night. </p><p> </p><p>...................</p><p>
  <em>Derek wakes to the sound of screaming.</em>
</p><p>His heart races like a frantic bird in his chest as he sits up, arms pulling ineffectually at the shackles. It sounds like Stiles, he realizes with certain dread. He roars hoping to scare the men away, but all they do is laugh. His ears pick up the zapping sound of electricity fizzing through skin. </p><p><em>They're tasing him.</em> </p><p>"Tell us where they are!" </p><p>"I don't know!" Stiles hisses through clenched jaws. His voice trembles and Derek can hear the faint sound of water dropping onto the floor. They must've doused him in cold water before shocking him. </p><p>"Leave him alone!" he snarls, rattling his chains against the metal wall. The wall bangs violently against him like one of the men had kicked it. </p><p>"Shut up wolf!" </p><p>Stiles gasps out as the shocks cease momentarily. He's sprawled out on the floor, stripped of his clothes, just in his black briefs that are soaked in water. There are burn Mark's on his back and torso, from where the cattle prod had stuck into him. The wound on his shoulder is lancing, still bandaged but cold and wet because of the water. He's freezing but the men offer him no comfort of a warm blanket or dry clothes. His head still hurts from the gun-butt he'd gotten yesterday. </p><p>"He doesn't know anything!" Derek roars from the other room, fangs out and eyes glowing red. </p><p>The man with the prod twists his head to the side, kind of like a curious bird as he fixes his crazed eyes on the teen. </p><p>"I thought you said you knew him from around town? Hm, not that I believed you anyway, but this is interesting. The wolf seems to care about you." </p><p>Stiles' steady breathing is cut off by an agonising shriek as he's shocked again with the prod. Derek howls, hoping to distract them. </p><p>"Carvalho, you and Casey go to the next room. Shut him up," the man orders, obviously referring to Derek. Good, the Alpha thinks, get as many of them away from Stiles as possible. He hears the click of a phone camera. </p><p>"Should we use the wolfsbane bullets?" </p><p>"No!" Stiles cries out but is put under again with another shock of electricity. </p><p>"This will be a fun experiment," the man chuckles in response. "The boy and the wolf must be close if they're reacting like this." </p><p>"So the bullets Boss?" Carvalho repeats a bit impatiently. </p><p>Boss huffs at him and shakes his head. "Bullets will kill him if they're left in long enough. We need him incapacitated, not dead. Just take the dry wolfsbane stash and leave it in the room. It'll weaken the beast." </p><p> </p><p>*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*</p><p> </p><p>A whistling sound comes from the door as soon as it opens. Like a human calling for their pet dog. Derek's immune to the dog jokes of hunters by now though, knowing their kind to be of lowly morals and self-respect. His senses dampen when a burlap bag is tossed to the floor a short distance from him, just without reaching range. Dark purple petals fall out the opening of the bag and Derek swears under his breath. </p><p>"Boss said to shut you up, puppy." Carvalho grins, shutting the door behind him. Casey walks over to the bag and kicks it a few times until the contents spill out. Derek gasps out a shallow breath as the effect of the wolfsbane overpowers him. Behind him, in the other room, he can hear Stiles scream again, probably shocked again by the prod but his hearing is impaired so he doesn't hear the fizzle of electricity or the water being dashed over the kid. </p><p>His growls are cut off by a sharp shock to the torso. Carvalho steps up to him, dark boots stepping on his ankle as he leans down and produces a phone. He slides his thumb across the screen and then shows it to Derek. </p><p>"See this? This is your boy," he sneers nastily, forcing Derek to look at the picture. </p><p>In it, Stiles is lying on the cold floor, stripped down to his black briefs. He's soaking wet it seems and his pale skin is marred by reddened scorch marks. He looks skinnier and sickly. There's a deep gash on his head, just below his hairline that's dripping blood. And his bandaged shoulder looks swollen and red. Something within the Alpha snaps and he roars at the men, taking pleasure in how they step back quickly. But then the prod shocks him and his fangs slide back into his jaws. </p><p>"There's a good dog now," Casey spits at him. </p><p>"Make any sound again and the kid's gonna get it worse." Carvalho threatens just as 'Boss' shocks Stiles again. The teen's screams had tapered off into weak cries, sobs of displeasure and pain. Derek can't even properly detect a heartbeat again and that scares him the most. Not knowing. He always had the ability to hear his pack's heartbeats. Not having that luxury now when Stiles was literally next to him was scary. The wolfsbane was responsible for that. </p><p>"You care about that pathetic little human?" the man taunts, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Derek glares at him but says nothing. </p><p>"Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were fucking the kid," Carvalho presses, Casey chuckling in the back as he paces the room with a semi-automatic in hand. A low growl makes its way past Derek's lips.</p><p>"Now now, don't get all growly on me. I'm just stating an observation," he continues. "See, in all our years of experience, we've only ever seen an Alpha act this way towards its mate. Right after we killed it of course. I know your bonds are for life and intimately woven into your DNA or some shit like that."</p><p>Derek hisses and spits at the man who simply takes a step back. </p><p>"Ooh, did I hit a nerve? Is that it? Is the kid your mate? A little young isn't he?"</p><p>"He's not my mate," Derek whispers threateningly. </p><p>Casey snorts, "Maybe not, but you care about him." </p><p>"No, no," Carvalho interrupts, grinning like a lunatic. "No, I believe him. He's not your mate. So then he's free game right?"</p><p>Derek's lunging at the man with lightning speed before the chains yank him back to the wall, arms jerking violently. "Don't touch him!" he snarls, earning another shock. </p><p>"Too late," Casey chuckles, brandishing the picture again. </p><p>"He's barely seventeen you sick fucks!" Derek roars attempting and failing to break from his chains. God, the idea of these sick fucks touching Stiles in <em>that</em> way makes him sick to his stomach. </p><p>"And seventeen year olds aren't having sex like rabbits in the woods? He's pretty I'm sure he gets action from the girls at his high school." </p><p>Casey snorts, "Not the kind of action he'd get from us though."</p><p>Derek snarls.</p><p>"No," Carvalho agrees, looking thoughtful. "He's definitely enough to satisfy us for a while." He kneels down on one knee next to Derek and looks him in the eye, voice low and full of spite as he whispers, "He a virgin?" </p><p>Derek snaps and lunges forward again, this time within range and headbutts the man, breaking his nose in the process. He gets a litany of electric shocks for his deeds but the adrenaline of his rage numbs him to the feeling. </p><p>"Fucker!" Carvalho hisses in pain, punching Derek in the face. His lower lip splits and he spits out blood from biting his tongue. </p><p>"Don't worry Alpha," he sneers. "There are other ways to find out." </p><p>They leave after a while but the threat lingers, slowly sending Derek into a maddening spiral until he passes out. </p><p> </p><p>.................</p><p>
  <em>Derek?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek can you hear me? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>God, we're so fucked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek, y'gotta wake up man... wake up, please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't want to die here...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Derek- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I heard gunshots- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>God, please don't be dead sourwolf...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything hurts...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>...I think I'm gonna die here.</em>
</p><p>"Derek!" </p><p>Derek wakes with a sharp gasp that quickly takes him to a coughing fit. His throat is dry and his head is pounding. The wolfsbane petals are still strewn all over the floor but they're drying up, their power slowly fading while his returns. He feels his strength surging through his body and the cut on his lip is healed, leaving only the dried bloodstain on his chin. He smells blood and sweat and... </p><p>"Stiles?" </p><p>Echoing silence fills the space around him and he feels dread settle heavy in the pit of his stomach. </p><p>"Stiles!" </p><p>Still nothing. So he closes his eyes and focuses on the sounds. He hears men talking amongst themselves, about an approaching threat. It's been a month since they've captured him and Stiles. Turns out these hunters were far more experienced than Derek had given them credit for. They were a part of some kind of hunter militia, who preyed on supernatural creatures for the sole purpose of trading them on the black market at insane prices. They'd gotten to Beacon Hills from travelling across the country. Turns out all manner of were-creatures had been forced into hiding after their numbers had depleted severely over a period of one year after the arrival of these hunters. </p><p>He tunes them out in favour of listening in to Stiles' heartbeat. <em>C'mon Stiles, give me something.</em> </p><p>He glances at the wall where the shackles are melded. The metal looks raised, most likely from his earlier efforts to escape. He pulls at it again and the thing barely squeaks. He growls, glaring at the constantly blistering and healing skin on his wrists. God he could only imagine how Stiles was holding up through this misery. Unlike Derek, who'd been born into a family of super fast, super healers, Stiles was a human. He had slow healing abilities and didn't recover as quick as a werewolf would. That meant that he was in a constant state of pain from his injuries. Derek had only gotten a taste of the agonising electro shock therapy before his body healed him again and took away his pain. Stiles didn't have that luxury, nor would he be able to dull his pain. </p><p>A low whine works up from the back of Derek's throat, voicing his burning desire to go to the boy and comfort him. To take his pain away and hide him away from the world. Laura had always told him about Alpha instincts and how protective they were over pack. He'd never felt anything like it since the fire, and hell, since <em>she</em> died. To feel it again was... blinding. </p><p>"Derek?" came a sluggish call and he perks up. </p><p>"Stiles!" </p><p>Stiles coughs and then throws up. He can hear the boy's thunderous heartbeat. </p><p>"Are you alright? Did they hurt you again?" </p><p>Stiles spits and then clears his throat, "No. They've been leaving me cans of soup. I'm sick of it." </p><p>Derek's stomach twinges at the mention of food and he glances at the dead rabbit at the door. It's obviously been there for a few days. He frowns. "How long was I out?" </p><p>Stiles whimpers, sitting up and leaning against the wall. "Four days." </p><p>He curses under his breath and shakes his head. "I'm sorry." </p><p>Stiles chuckles, his tone humourless. "I thought we've already established that this is my fault?" </p><p>"No. It's not," Derek shoots back insistently. "They want me not you. If I hadn't dragged you int-"</p><p>"Whoa whoa, hold up," Stiles cuts in. "Let's not go down that road sourwolf. That shit will only make our circumstances worse." </p><p>They're both silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts. Although they're probably both wondering where the hell the rest of the pack is. It'll take time, Derek knows, but knowing how hurt Stiles was made him irrationally impatient. </p><p>"Did they touch you?" he asks after a while.</p><p>Stiles scoffs, "Yeah dude, I've got like, burns all over m-"</p><p>"No." Derek grits, cutting him off. "Did they <em>touch</em> you...?" </p><p>There's a stutter in the teen's heartbeat and Derek can feel his panic setting in. "N- no. Wait, did they say- ...did they tell you what they'd do to me? Are they gonna-"</p><p>"Hey, listen to me Stiles. Calm down, they- they just said that shit to threaten me. And besides, the pack's already trying to get to us." </p><p>Stiles nods though Derek can't see him do it and goes silent, eyes dark and haunted. "They took my clothes," he murmurs finally, leaning over until his side is pressed against the cold ground. </p><p>Derek's chest tightens. "Th- they showed me a picture." </p><p>Stiles sniffles and Derek can hear the way his fragile body trembles. "He called me pretty." </p><p>Derek's claws come out. "I... I won't let them hurt you." </p><p><em>Too late,</em> his mind supplies treacherously. </p><p>"I'm so cold Derek... I can't- I can barely feel my toes." </p><p>For the first time in his life Derek wishes he could hold Stiles in his arms and kiss him. He's certain his Alpha instincts were responsible for that particular thought, but it's also underlined by a deep seeded desire to claim the boy. Stiles was a member of his pack. <em>Stiles was his!</em> </p><p>How dare they touch what was his? </p><p>It's a long time before he realizes that the kid had gone completely silent. He listens frantically for a heartbeat, calling his name out like a mad man, over and over and over again. </p><p>"Stiles! Don't go to sleep! C'mon I need you!"</p><p>Nothing but a whimper and a heavy sigh. </p><p>"I need you to wake up! Don't stop talking to me! Stiles? <em>Stiles!</em>" </p><p>In the distance he can hear piercing howls rupture the relative peacefulness that had encompassed their capture. He knows those howls like he knows his own. He feels his heart come to life with renewed vigour and he lets out his own howl. It's loud and commanding. </p><p><em>They're here!</em> </p><p>"Stiles!" he roars, pulling hard at his chains. The metal squeaks and groans but they don't break. He's still not up to full strength and they're coated in mountain ash and wolfsbane. </p><p>"Derek?" Stiles murmurs sleepily, wheezing as he struggles to sit up again. </p><p>"They're here, the pack is here! I need you to stay-" </p><p>There's a screeching and a loud bang, followed by the sound of a man barging into the room with Stiles. It's Carvalho.</p><p>"Son of a bitch! They killed my men! You did this!" </p><p>Stiles backs up against the wall, trying to get away from the onslaught. But the man grabs him by the legs and forces him over on his stomach. Stiles immediately cries out when he feels the man pull on the waistband of his briefs. </p><p><em>"No no no no no!"</em> he wails out in horror. </p><p>A roar causes the man to freeze, and the sound of crunching metal makes him scrabble to his feet. The sounds are coming from Derek's room. </p><p>Derek doesn't stop howling, even as Peter barrels into the room, snapping at the chains with his teeth and setting him free. He curses at Peter, clawing through the walls to get to Stiles. </p><p>"You were supposed to get Stiles! Not me!" he snarls but Peter just ignores him in favour of clawing through the walls too. </p><p>"The hallway is protected by mountain ash, we can't go through that way." </p><p>"Why do you think I'm trying to go through the walls?" Derek growls. "Stiles I'm coming!" </p><p>Stiles has suddenly gone silent, heartbeat steady in Derek's ear. He sounds eerily calm when he murmurs Derek's name. </p><p>
  <em>"Derek..."</em>
</p><p>"One more claw through the wall and the kid gets a bullet in the head!" </p><p>Peter freezes, yanking Derek back from the wall. "Stop- stop! He'll kill Stiles, don't-"</p><p>They both hear Stiles, speaking to them in a hushed tone, shaky but determined. </p><p><em>"He's locked the door so no one can get in from this side."</em> </p><p>"Stiles we're gonna get you out." Derek states firmly. </p><p><em>"You're not listening Derek. There's no way to get into this room."</em> </p><p>"Shut up!" Carvalho spits, backhanding Stiles across the face. Derek howls and Peter holds him back at the sound of a gun cocking. </p><p>Stiles is forced to his feet again, and made to stand against the wall like he's in a line up. Carvalho aims his gun, taking a step back, ready to run. </p><p>"Say goodbye kid!"</p><p>
  <em>"Tell my Dad I'm sorry..."</em>
</p><p>"Stiles!" </p><p><em>"For everything. And that I love him..."</em> </p><p>"No-!"</p><p><em>"Goodbye sourwolf-"</em> </p><p>Two gunshots are followed by a terrible howl. Peter snarls and claws through the walls, finally making a sizable opening that they could push through. Derek bursts into the room, frantic and crazed. He sees the Sheriff, standing at the door that's been torn off its hinges, his gun pointed forward and smoking. On the floor, there are two bodies, lying in a pool of blood. Carvalho has a bullet through the head and he lies in the puddle, unmoving. </p><p>The other body, is also lying motionless in the red puddle, pale skin marred with bruises and wounds, streaked with blood. </p><p>"No, no no no no..." Derek mutters to himself, kneeling next to Stiles' lifeless body. He pulls the boy into his arms and freezes at the coldness of his skin. He glances up at Peter, scared and confused and then howls in agony. Peter joins in and kneels at his side, hand over the kid's chest. There's a bloody gash on the side of his head, near the temple where the bullet hit. </p><p><em>"He's not breathing!"</em> Derek cries, and Peter's heart breaks for his nephew. </p><p>
  <em>"Why isn't he breathing? I can't- I can't hear his heart beat! I can't hear it!"</em>
</p><p>Behind them, the Sheriff stands there, frozen and unable to move an inch. His fingers lose grip of the gun he's holding and he lets out a shuddering breath. Stiles' real name is garbled up somewhere in there. </p><p>
  <em>"Peter! Why isn't he- I can't hear it!"</em>
</p><p>Peter grabs Derek's shoulder, shaking him. "Der- Derek! Let him go, he's-"</p><p><em>"No! Don't you say it!"</em> Derek snarls but it's all choked up and turns into a mournful wail. He howls again and the rest of the pack join them, some gasping and others crying out in shock. Scott's howl nearly overpowers Derek's own and he pulls the body to his chest. <em>Oh God Stiles. What have I done?</em> </p><p>"Derek..." Peter calls, and he sounds weird. </p><p>He's about to curse at the man but then something stops him in his tracks. A familiar sound. </p><p><em>Thump-thump, thump-thump...</em> </p><p>He stops, looking down at the body in his arms. The sound of a heartbeat. <em>That's the sound of a heartbeat!</em></p><p>"S- Stiles? I can hear his..." </p><p>"He's alive!" Scott cries, running up to them. Peter helps Derek hold up the boy and suddenly everyone surrounds them, holding a hand out. The Sheriff cradles his son's head in shaky hands, checking the wound. The bullet had done some considerable damage but there was no exit wound. It looked like the bullet had just grazed his temple- well, it was a little more than a graze but fucking hell his son was alive. </p><p>"We need to get him to the hospital now," he orders firmly, eyes burning into Derek's. The Alpha nods and pulls Stiles closer to his body. </p><p>"I can take him. It'll be quicker." </p><p>The Sheriff nods once and that's all the permission Derek needs before he goes. </p><p> </p><p>..................</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Three weeks later.</em>
</p><p>He shudders awake to the feeling of his head on someone's chest. It's warm and cosy and it doesn't feel like he's trapped in that horrid room anymore. He doesn't smell of blood and grime and sweat anymore and there's clothes on his back. He feels warm and safe and- heck he's on a soft bed. Whining softly he cracks open one eye- the eye that's not squished up against the solid chest he's on- and looks around the room. </p><p>He's in a hospital. </p><p><em>Holy shit! He's alive?!</em> </p><p>He gasps and goes to sit up but is held tighter by the hand around him. Turning his head slowly, he notices familiar blue eyes and blonde hair. </p><p>"Dad?"</p><p>He waits a beat.</p><p>"Daddy?" </p><p>The Sheriff startles awake and pulls him even closer before freezing, his mouth agape. </p><p>"Stiles, oh son you're awake." he exclaims, the relief tangible in his voice. He cuddles Stiles who surprisingly doesn't protest. Instead, the boy snuggles into the embrace and sighs happily. </p><p>"How are you feeling? Do you need me to get the nurse?" Noah asks, tenderly kissing the top of Stiles' head. </p><p>"No I'm- I feel fine." Stiles answers, voice muffled against his Dad's chest. "I'm sorry." </p><p>Noah frowns. "Sorry? For what?"</p><p>Stiles' upper lip quivers like he's about to cry. "I'm sorry about all of this..." he says, still not quite sure of what his father knows. But he would've had to have been made privy to the situation in order to understand how Stiles had gotten mixed up into this whole thing. Did Derek tell him?</p><p>Stiles gasps. "Where's Derek?? </p><p>He feels the panic setting back in, but the  Noah pets him on the shoulder and smiles. </p><p>"Derek left about an hour ago. I told him to get some sleep. He's been watching over you since we brought you here. And so has the rest of the pack. Scott told his mom to keep an eye on you and he's been here every day after school, checking on you. Lydia, Allison and even Jackson visit as well. That one surprised me, I thought you guys weren't friendly." </p><p>Stiles swallows, feeling relieved that they were both saved. "Did he... what have they told you? You said 'pack' so that must mean you know about werewolves right?" </p><p>The man sighs, looking tired but content. "They told me everything. And I want you to know that I'm not mad."</p><p>Stiles blinks at him, curious. "You're not?" </p><p>"Derek said you wanted to protect me, so I know that your persuasion to lie to me came from a good place. You've never been a malicious kid, baby boy. But I want you to know that it's not your job to protect me. Okay? At least not when your own life is at risk. I can't lose you too kiddo." </p><p>Stiles sniffles and wipes at the solitary tear running down his Dad's cheek. He borrows into the man's chest and hums softly. "Okay Daddy. I won't do it again." </p><p> </p><p>*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*</p><p>The next time Stiles wakes up again, he sees Derek. </p><p>He bites his lip nervously, glancing at the man clearly awake on the chair at his bedside, eyes glued to whatever old paperback he's reading. He's in a soft white tee, and blue jeans, hair fluffy and unkempt and sporting a scruff. Stiles drools for a while before Derek turns a page and smirks slightly, causing him to startle. </p><p>"Staring is for creeps," the asshole says, using Stiles' own words against him. </p><p>Stiles blushes and looks away, scratching at his head. </p><p>"Be careful, or you'll undo your stitches." Derek huffs, though not unkindly. </p><p>Stiles stops mid-scratch and starts feeling around his temple with his fingertips. It reminds him of those horrible weeks he'd spent in that room. He quickly closes his eyes and shakes his head, wincing at the sound of gunshots in his memories. Derek hastily puts down his book and approaches the kid, warmth and concern in his eyes. </p><p>"Your heart's beating fast," he whispers, stroking the nape of Stiles' neck comfortingly. The kid whimpers and buries his face in his hands. Derek hears the soft whine and sniffles from the boy and he clutches him tighter. He doesn't ask, doesn't hesitate to slip into the bed, pulling the teen to his chest tightly. Stiles burrows into him and repeats "I'm sorry" like it's a mantra. </p><p>"It's okay," he whispers into the boy's short-cut hair. "I'm here Stiles. Not leaving you alone again. I swear." </p><p>"Should've listened to you." </p><p>"It's not your fault," Derek tells him softly. "You shouldn't have been mixed up in all of this and I'm sorry." </p><p>Stiles shakes his head. "I would've followed you anyway. Can't imagine you being in that place all by your lonely sourwolf self." </p><p>Derek feels his eyes burn suspiciously and he hates how familiar it feels to cry now. He'd been doing it since he thought he'd lost Stiles, and after the hospital had kept him for surgery, and when the Sheriff had forced him to go home and take a shower and a rest. But he doesn't hold back this time, determined to let Stiles know that he cared. </p><p>"They barely touched me, it's <em>you</em> they hurt the most." </p><p>Stiles pauses and shudders. "Can't say I enjoyed it but I... I don't think I would've been able to handle it if they'd hurt you..." </p><p>Derek freezes, looks down at the kid and feels a warmth spread in his chest like a fire. God, could Stiles be anymore selfless? He holds him tighter, presses a kiss to his forehead. </p><p>"If I could go back in time and do it all over, I would've hid you away from everyone. Kept you in a basement somewhere..." </p><p>"Moving slowly into serial killer territory are we?" Stiles mumbles with a chuckle but Derek shakes his head.</p><p>"I hate that they put their hands on you. Hate that they got that far. <em>Touched you like you were theirs."</em> His voice takes on a low rumble and Stiles pats his chest. </p><p>"It's okay now... I'm- I'm fine... relatively speaking..." </p><p>"You don't have to keep it all in Stiles," Derek tells him slowly. "I know I'm not exactly Shakespeare when it comes to talking. But I want to... I want to listen to you. I want to be there for you when you need someone to talk to. And if... if you need someone to- hold you." </p><p>Stiles glances up at him and offers him a wry but teary grin. "I should get into life threatening situations a little more often." </p><p>Derek fixes him with a serious look. "Don't even joke about that. I was stunted for a long time after Kate and- ...the fire. But, with you it's... it's-" </p><p>"I annoy you into having a full conversation?" Stiles interjects with a smile that Derek huffs at. </p><p>"No. With you it's different. I feel like I don't have anything to prove with you. I can just be myself and you wouldn't even care. And you make me care." </p><p>Stiles blinks up at him with those big, brown doe eyes and bites his lip nervously. "You care about me." he says, and it's a statement to which Derek nods firmly. </p><p>"I don't care about anything anymore. I just know that seeing you hurt and thinking you were d-" he cuts himself off, choking on the word as if it had burned him. He inhales Stiles' scent deeply and holds him closer. </p><p>"I just can't anymore. I almost lost you. I'm not doing that again." </p><p>Stiles tries his best to be subtle about wiping away his tears but Derek can smell the salt anyway. </p><p>"Wow, maybe you're not a sourwol-" </p><p>Derek's finger over his lips causes his speech to stutter and he glances down at the offending appendage, going adorably cross eyed for a second. </p><p>"Can I kiss you?" </p><p>Stiles sputters and his mouth hangs open, Derek's finger tracing his lips. </p><p>"Psshyeah..." he chokes, hand going to Derek's neck to pull him down. </p><p>"Impatient are we?" Derek snorts, chest feeling lighter than it ever has in years. </p><p>Stiles blushes, all shy and cute. "Yes." </p><p>He whimpers when their tongues touch before their lips can even meet, Derek taking charge of the kiss and holding Stiles like a passionate lover from an 90s romance novel. Their lips meet and Derek growls low in his throat, rough stubble scraping against baby smooth skin. Soft whimpers and squeaks barely make it out of the boy's mouth and Derek counts his lucky stars that he's able to hear them. He doesn't even give much thought to the irony that he- <em>of all people-</em> would be forever grateful to hear Stiles talk again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you and hope you enjoyed.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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